


Homesick

by YelenaRomanova



Category: Bandom, Marianas Trench
Genre: 1712 Acadia road, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coming of Age, Cutting, Drugs, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, House Party, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Partying, Sad, Self-Harm, Songfic, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7137224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YelenaRomanova/pseuds/YelenaRomanova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the house I grew up in-<br/>Drunken speeches on sobriety-<br/>Now it's Behind me<br/>Sometimes it reminds me<br/>Of when we, we used to<br/>Belong here</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homesick

"You know what I really hate?" The young man kicked an empty can of diet soda against the dirty white wall. "Tell me." A rasp voice asked out of the dark. The young man shifted from one leg to the other, stretching out his muscles. "When the wounds of your cuts start healing and the blood crusts get all flaky. It's like the cut isn't fresh enough any longer. But the scar hasn't quite formed yet so there's no need to cut again." The boy in the dark blew a row of smoke rings in the other one's direction. "you know. There's actually no need at all to cut your skin." "yes there is." "Don't be silly." The lanky boy in the door frame drowned himself in silence again. He let out a deep breath before he broke the silence again. "There's a lot of things I might say to that Matty. But you wouldn't take any of that shit now would you." Matt let out a moan of regret and...was it fear? "Not even after twice as much weed and alcohol as I had by now." He stated. He knew too well what behaviors Josh had picked up again lately. It was killing him inside but he just didn't seem to get through to the thin boy. The perspective of the loss of his parent's house had had a toll on him. Change usually had.

Josh turned on the doorstep, now facing away from Matt and against the dimmed light from the hallway. All Matt could see against the light was his best friend's slender silhouette, one arm steadied against the door, the other settled on his ever so tiny waist. 

"You know what I think we should do?" Josh asked, still facing away from the other boy. "No?" "Of course you don't." Josh chuckled to himself. Matt could legitimately hear the other smile that sassy smirk of his that Matt hated and loved so much. "Enlighten me then." He returned. "This place is getting torn down on Monday. We might as well wreck it tonight." 

It took them no more than an hour or two to fill the now rather empty and forlorn house of Josh's parents with a good half of their school's students. Soon the grey washed walls would turn black and blue with quotes, random doodles and love pledges. The hallway was crowded with people by then and the air was thick with smoke and perfume. Josh had lost control over the partying mob and he couldn't care less. It felt good to let go of control for once. Letting things fall into place wasn't exactly a strength of his. "Cheers to the birthday boy!" Some kid at the other end of the room cried out. "Not my birthday, but thanks anyway!", Josh laughed, raising his bottle of Whiskey to the boy he hadn't ever seen before. The crowd cheered with him. He wasn't exactly one of the cool kids. Actually not at all. But host the party and give them alcohol and a place to take their drugs at and they'll at least pretend to know you, perhaps even fake a smile and ask you how you've been. Josh stumbled across the room, heading for the staircase and his old bedroom. He felt the soft burn of alcohol at back of his throat and the sweet numbness and slight dizziness which came with it as he strutted up the stairs. "Josh. It's been a while! Wanna share a cig?" "Not now. Need a drink first." Josh excused himself out.

The door opened with a hollow cracking. It felt strange to be back. To stand in this room for one last time before it was going to be torn down. This room he had spent the uncounted hours of his youth in. The bad and the few but still ought-to-be-mentioned good ones. Growing up never feels good. Or so they say. Josh thought to himself. And still. All the time he had spent pondering over sheets and lines, laying on the ground or sitting at his cheap synthesizer... All the times he and Matt had ended up laughing so damn hard about the dumbest things they almost fell off the bed. Matt and him sitting back to back on the ground. Talking about girls. And kisses. And things they thought about but wouldn't ever mention to anyone else. Matt. Josh thought about the nights he had bawled his eyes out when Matt had found out about his very own dark little secret. The way Matt had made him feel like everything was going to be ok when nothing was alright. 

"Josh!", Matt's eyes were full of surprise. "I didn't expect you'd come here. I'm sorry. Is this weird? I was just... This..room...there's so many memories stuck in these walls man." Matt made an attempt to get to his feet but instead ended up kneeling back down again. 

"No. Please. Stay." Josh smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Matt this emotional. "I guess that's why I came here too. T's weird to think this will be gone." He sat down next to Matt, pulling his legs close to his body. Music was blasting through the walls, the thrumming bass made the wooden floor vibrate. 

"Is this the point we're supposed to become grownups now?" Matt asked, his tongue was heavy with the liquor of the hours passed. "Probably." Josh laughed. "We might still Kurt Cobain our way out you know?" His laughter turned bitter sweet. Matt looked at him. Fear and fascination dripping from his gaze. "We could. But what if we're missing out on the best? What if high school was the worst part and the best is yet to...come?" Josh was staring right at Matt now. The younger boy's eyes were sparkling with tears. Josh felt sick. The honesty and hope in his best friend's words were overwhelming. And still. Despite - or because of?- the deep sadness in his friend's eyes, Josh thought he had never been as beautiful as in that very second. "And what if I kissed you now?" He could hear his heart thrumming in his chest. His mind pleading for Matt to be drunk enough to say yes, his heart hoping for Matt to feel the same as Josh did all out of the sudden. All the memories. All the times and lines and thoughts and whispered names beneath empty sheets and bad or good dreams. Everything connected in that second. "What if we stopped caring for tomorrow for a second. And I kissed you know?" Matt didn't reply. He froze and then a single tear ran down his cheek.

The older boy reached out for Matt's neck, ever so slowly pulling him into the kiss he craved so damn much. In that second Josh would have sworn he turned into Peter Pan. Time stood still and he knew he wasn't ever going to grow the tiniest bit older. For as long as this precious moment could possibly last, there was no tomorrow. No hurting past, no scary future. It was just him and Matt. 

Matt's lips tasted like cheap beer and grass and summer. Josh's tasted sour like diet coke and oaky from the whiskey he had gulped down earlier. When Josh opened his eyes again, he found himself kneeling in front of Matt. Their thighs intertwined, their hands buried in each other's hair. "I'm not saying it's going to get better Joshy..." Matt ran his fingers over the thin red lines across Josh's wrists "I know this place meant a lot to you. To us. A lot of shit happened here too. But what if I asked you to come with me, to run away from it all?" And that was about the time when Josh realized that this house would go down along with his childhood. But that didn't mean the end. "Sometimes home isn't a /where/ but instead a /who/ I guess. Take me with you Matty. I've been homesick for so very long." Josh whispered and Matt had the biggest smile plastered to his lips.


End file.
